Heartbroken (aka I Told Someone Something)
by Kay the Cricketed
Summary: Yaoi, as usual from me. ::grins:: Mild Kensuke, Jun's POV- involves Rocky Road ice cream! And Chibi-Daisuke! Enjoy!


Heartbroken aka I Told Someone Something  
  
By Kay  
  
Disclaimer: ::darkly:: Never. I'll never say it.  
  
Daisuke: Say what?  
  
That I don't own Digimon! ::pauses and eyes widen:: ****! DAIIII!!!!  
  
Daisuke: ::snickers::  
  
Author's Notes: Er... Jun POV! First Jun fic, first one that I actually liked her. :) Usually she's just... there. But I was bored and dying for inspiration so I decided instead of banging my head over my Kensuke, I'd just write a nice lil' piece like this! It has mild Kensuke... not a lot, but some... and I might do a sequel is asked to, but I'm not sure... ::shrugs::  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I'm not much of a big sister always, am I?  
  
Okay, so I've never been much of a big sister. Not since you were five anyway, when you first started school. I suppose having friends your own age who liked the same things you did helped you become happier, but I still miss the energetic baby brother I used to have.  
  
The one who loved to smile all the time.  
  
Trust me, hyper kids have nothin' on you.  
  
Remember when you came home crying about that dark-haired kid taking your soccer ball? I comforted you as best I could when you started sobbing helplessly, and made you Rocky Road ice cream sundays.  
  
Then you put a newt in his lunchbox. Yep.  
  
You asked me not to tell Mom and Dad- your soft brown eyes sparkling with that infinite trust and mischief you picked up as you became older. The small grin you had as you told me about how he screamed like a girl was contagious. You trusted me so absolutely- I was the girl you always ran to with those dumb made-up jokes you had, or humor every cute trick you did.  
  
I have a sad confession to make.  
  
I was the one who told Mom and Dad about the newt.  
  
Guess I wasn't a good sister even back then?  
  
Good or bad, I'm still your sister, though. When Mom and Dad were on their business trips, I was the one who made you peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. You would stand on the wooden stool in front of the counter, way to short to reach it yourself, and watch while I made them. You were a careful little observer, dark face scrunched up as you concentrated to make sure I didn't put on to much peanut butter. It was the jelly you thought tasted good- strawberry, never grape.  
  
Didn't think I remembered, did you?  
  
And I was the one who always let you watch your idiotic Saturday cartoons while you were eating, even though Mom didn't like it when you made a mess on the couch. I had to clean up every sticky crumb, and Mom definatly wasn't happy with me. But, hey, I still did it, right?  
  
Not to mention, no matter how many times we got into screaming fights over things like the remote or who got to use the bathroom first, I was still the one who would put a bandaid on your skinned, bleeding knee when you learned how to ride a bike.  
  
See? I still remember that, too.  
  
I know it semes like I've been annoyed with you lately, (for the past few years,) and been more obsessed with Yamato than paying any attention to you. I know we haven't agreed on anything forever, and I haven't really and truly talked to you since you were six.  
  
But, jeez, I know you're there.  
  
Did you really think I wouldn't see you crying?  
  
You act like you think I'll ignore you if you came in with Yama himself. But I'm still your sister, even if I try to covince myself otherwise most of the time. I could see the tears streaking down your face, the anguish hidden deep in the chocolate brown eyes we both inherited from Grandma.  
  
Who hurt you this time? Was it that girl you're in love with? Hikari? I've seen her older brother with Yamato a lot- big hair, confident smile, right? Definately your role model. Personally I think you should give it up. You're a lot more sweet when you're yourself.  
  
Maybe Hikari would like you better then. I've never seen the girl myself, but she must be something if she's as great as you make her out to be. I picture (from your descriptions, of course) a beautiful, angelic vision of sweetness and grace with wings and a damn halo.  
  
You are so pathetic sometimes.  
  
I mean, it's no wonder the girl doesn't give you the time of day! Although I'd be lying if I said I completely agreed with her. You really are a romantic when you want to be, if you'd just stop pretending and listen to your head once.  
  
No matter how pathetic you are- the way "Hikari" makes you cry isn't funny. It's cruel. She's playing with you, Dai- I don't know if she really means to, but she's hurting you over and over.  
  
Although lately you've been quieter, especially about her. You haven't been around as much lately, going out with friends or on camping trips and stuff. Every time you come back yo'ure more silent. Older. Even maturer. It scares me a little- just yesterday, you actually let me have the TV without a fight. You actually think things over sometimes now, being pensive.  
  
But the more your newly serious and thoughtful side shows through, the more times you come home fighting tears.  
  
Is it your friends? Are they making fun of you? Again? Don't think I haven't heard what they say to you- how they act. I've noticed. It's horrible and unfair of them, but there's not much I can do. They don't know the Daisuke I've known, they can't tell how upset you get when they're having their own fun. I guess they just don't see how your brave smiles in their laughter is just a stupid front.  
  
You just grin and bear it.  
  
You can be such a forgiving friend. One day it's going to break your heart.  
  
If the thought didn't make me feel sorry, I would call you an idiot. But I'm not always mean when it comes to you. You can't help but just let these things go- when it comes to you, the world could ride you over and you'd drown, but you still wouldn't resist it like you should.  
  
Once again, I know I'm not a very good sister. I don't try to help you with that- it's your own battle. I can't be all nice and helpful always, forgetting what an annoying pest you are. That's what little brothers are for.  
  
But when you look at me with those tear-filled eyes, hurt and betrayed, I don't care if I'm a good one or not. You're hurt and you've suddenly been shamefully reduced to the cookie stealing five year old that stole my makeup.  
  
So I take you in my arms and soothe you, for the first time in years, petting your spiky but strangely soft hair while you sob into my shirt.   
  
You cry hard, ashamed of this lapse of courage- don't you know I'm your big sister? You can always cry in front of me, silly.  
  
As I'm hugging you gently, comforting what I can, you mumble, "S'rry."  
  
Daisuke... "What are you sorry for? What's wrong?" I ask gently in concern, smoothing the tears away from his face as he looks up at me soulfully. Sadness makes his face seem ages younger and ages older at the same time. Suddenly, I know exactly what's hurting him deep down, breaking him apart like this.  
  
My little brother's heart's been broken.  
  
Oh Daisuke... I knew it would happen.  
  
"I-it's nothing. I just..." He sniffs, and my heart immeadiatly goes out to him again. My poor brother. "I told someone s-something... a-and they didn't want t-to hear it."  
  
You bury your head in my shoulder again, defeated by another wave of some despair.  
  
I'm not the best sister, but I still stay with you until you're reduced to hiccups and quiet heaving. Then I make you Rocky Road sundays and we watch TV together.  
  
You know what really confuses me? Besides everything about you?  
  
That night, I went into your room to check up on you. Worried, okay, I'll admit it. You were fine- asleep in bed, free of whatever demons had plagued you earlier, and clutching that furry blue stuffed animal you have.  
  
But there was scattered, torn paper all over your floor. Pages ripped from the sketchbook Mom gave you last Christmas.  
  
I bent and picked them up curiously, and immeadiately gasped.  
  
Oh, baby, you must've been really sad. So upset to do something like this- it worries me more than I'd admit.  
  
Why'd you rip of those drawings you used to love doing? You did them over and over, the same eyes scratched through the papers, hypnotic and beautiful. Haunting to me.  
  
Why'd you destroy them?  
  
It was your best work, and now it's gone forever...  
  
Indigo. What a strange colour.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
THE END: Um... okay, that wasn't very good... anywayz, review?! PLease?! :) :) :) 


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